Another Casey Story
by I-stabbed-him-with-the-pencil
Summary: This is Casey's point of view for Sammy Keyes and the Art of Deception. I may not get it finished for a while. Read anyway. R&R.


**PLEASE READ THIS NOTE! I am formerly holly347. My computer was acting up for like, a year! But it's sorta fixed now. I'M BACK BABY! WHOOO! I'll be putting up the next chapter on Sammy Keyes and the School Play. Yokay, on with the story!**

"So, what do ya' think, Case?" My dad said one evening. He just finished telling me about the Renaissance fair. They were holding one over in Santa Martina again. I had done a little acting at one a couple years back, when we still lived in Washington. Warren had wanted to know if I would do a couple shows with him and a few other guys. He said that I'd probably have to wear a costume and conger up a fake English accent. He had laughed when I told him I was past being embarrassed by things like that. At school the drama club was doing a little skit called '_Laddies Gone Amok_'. Believe me. I was **EXTREMELY** glad that I had one of the two roles where a guy got to play a guy. All the other guys, except for Bryant Webber, were forced to wear wigs and, er, _stuffed_. We also had to have fake English accents. Mrs. Pilson had asked- Oh wait, scratch that. She _forced_ us to learn the proper ways to use it. Uhhg, I had dreams about Old English people coming to kill me whenever I messed up trying to talk with the accent every night.

"Er, Casey? I said, what do you think? You wanna do it with me?" Warren said, wondering why I was taking so long to answer.

"Yeah, dad, it sounds cool. When is it, again?" I asked.

"This Saturday and Sunday. But they only need us this Saturday. The guy from the fair emailed me the skits. Here," he said, and handed me a couple pieces of paper he had folded up in his in his pocket. "Try to memorize this." He gave me a crooked smile. He turned to leave my room, but he turned back, and he had a serious look on his face.

"Oh, and by the way, for some of the drinking skits, I'm putting white grape juice in your mug."

I rolled my eyes. He laughed at the look on my face and left.

The next day at school, I was heading towards homeroom when Heather tackled me and practically threw me to the ground.

"You told Mom I ruined her favorite jacket!!" She said as I threw her off of me.

"What? What are you talking about now, Heather?" I said as I put my hands on her shoulders and held her in place so I could look her in the eyes.

"I know you told her! Don't play stupid!" She growled at me and tried to get out of my grasp. She dug her fake nails into my hands and I let go.

"Seriously. I didn't even know Mom had a favorite jacket."

"Oh, sure. I don't know how you found out in the first place, but you WILL pay for this. You better learn to sleep with one eye open." She said, and did another one of those freaky growls.

"Ooooh, scary." I said, and started to head to class, but Heather called after me.

"Oh, by the way, stupid? I'm going with you and Warren to the stupid Renaissance thing. Mrs. Kuzkowski assigned me something where I have to interview someone there. Stupid art."

"Why do you keep saying stupid? It's getting old." I said. I would have kept walking, but a sudden thought flickered into the part of my brain that I had no control of.

"Wait, did she assign that to ALL the seventh graders in art?" It popped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

"Yeah, ...why?" She answered, curiosity burning in her words.

"Nothing, I was just wondering." I lied, hoping she bought it.

"You get weirder every day. Wonder if it'll ever stop." She mumbled. She left before I could say anything else.

All of the seventh grade was supposed to be there? Would _she_ be there? Would I get to see her? Was there a chance she would want to hang out with me there?

A million questions zoomed threw my head as I took my seat in Science. Mr. McCarter was giving a little lecture about something. I was to busy fighting with my thoughts.

Danny and Billy both say I'm obsessed with Sammy Keyes. They say no one on this planet is more in love with a person than I am. I deny it, but sometimes a wonder. But isn't this what it should be like when your in love? You think of her every living moment, even in your unconsciousness? It feels like the only reason you're here on this dark, damp place we call Earth is for her? Every beat of her heart is like a treasure all in itself, because you know that she's alive and because of that you may live? You know that if she was to ever cease existing, you would surely die soon after?

Well, I'm not sure if that's what you would call merely _love_, but that's how I feel for Sammy.

Oh, okay. So maybe I am a little obsessed. But, why should that be a bad thing?

Oh, yeah, 'cause she barely knows I exist. I've talked to her a total of four times. But who's counting? *Cough, cough*

Anyway, she probably thinks I'm some freak who's holding her skateboard hostage. I wonder if she even remembers that I told her she could always come over to my house and get it. Unless, maybe she dosen't want to come to my house. What if she hated me for not giving it back yet?

Oh. That would explain so much. I can't even emagin-

Mr. McCarter's voice jolted me out of my thoughts. I wasn't really sure what he said, but I knew he was talking to me. He had said something like '... talking to yourself....'

You see, sometimes I talk while I'm thinking really hard about stuff without noticing. It's not like I'm saying it loudly or anything. I just kind of whisper to myself.

"Uh... what?" I asked, not really sure how to answer something I hadn't heard. A few giggles were shared among the class.

"I said, why are you talking to yourself in the middle of my class, Acosta? Would you like to share something with us?" He asked, his voice almost sounding sarcastic.

"Um, no Sir." I said and out my head on my desk.

Yep. I'm obsessed.


End file.
